Fiddauthor Drabbles
by Laura Latts
Summary: Just a small collection of different fiddauthor fics. Warning: Mild Language.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Hey! So, first up is a first impressions. Not really any shipping, but just a little something. Hope you like it. Please review._

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Unpacking at Backupsmore University wasn't hard at all for Stanford Pines. Being in a tiny cramped apartment for most of his life, he had very little to actually move. Books aligned on the shelves, typewriter sat on his trunk at the foot of the bed, clothes put away, bed made, things neat and tidy. He was starting to like the idea of being on his own if it meant he could keep a decent organized system in his room. As opposed to sharing one with a slob for so many years like he had.

Ford glanced at the picture he had sat in the window of him and his whole family before Stanley moved out, and sighed. He still stung a little from how it was Stanley's fault that he was in Backupsmore when it he should've been a shoe-in at Westco. He came over and turned the picture down, noting himself he'd have to replace it later with a better photo.

 _'Hopefully my new room mate won't be as terrible.'_ , Ford thought to himself.

Suddenly the door opened and a taller man with dirty blond hair, dragging a couple of bags and a trunk and carrying a red and yellow box with "Bojangles" written on it, came storming in.

"Damn sorry excuse of a...", the taller man muttered, a Southern accent hidden in the growl of his voice.

"Oh! Y-you must be the room mate.", Ford tried to be polite and gave a smile but he was brushed aside as the other staggered, turned, muttered another swear, and hauled in his trunk with a growl. "...would you like some help?"

The tall man pulled in his case with a quick jerk and then kicked into the wall on his side of the room which made a clatter that caused Ford to cringe a little.

"It's a damn mockery! That's what it is! Damngummit.", he grumbled when he kicked the trunk.

"Excuse me?", Ford tried again.

The man turned to look at Ford. And for a moment, Ford worried he shouldn't have interrupted him at all. Finally the man slung off one of the bags, throwing it onto his bed and dug into the Bojangles box with his free arm and shoved something into Ford's mouth before he even had a chance to see what it was.

"Taste _that_ and tell me whatcha think.", he huffed.

Ford immediately rejected the offering and spat out something cold that was a combination of grease, smoke, wet, lumpy, dry, doughy, salty, and over all foreign and unpleasing.

"Yeah ya see?! It IS disgusting!"

"What the hell is _that?!_ ", Ford gagged.

"A cheap imitation of what REAL comfort food is!", the man said. "Damn fast food and its high fructose corn syrup deep fried wannabe with its _poly-craptic SHIT_ they keep stored in factories for 30 sumthin' years they try to pass off as somethin' edible! If I EVER came close to tastin' something as repulsive as that shit it'd have to be _actual SHIT!_ "

He threw the box onto the bed as well.

"..I see..", Ford said, not having a single clue what the hillbilly was going on about.

"If they wanna BEGIN to think that could hold a candle to biscuits 'n gravy, I'LL BE A SUCK-ASS MULE!", the other ranted and turned to drop his other bags onto his trunk.

"I suppose..", Ford shrugged, stuck with the perplexed image of perfectly good warm biscuits with strawberry jam, sitting in a bowl of dark brown gravy.

Suddenly the light dawned on the taller and his rage vanished almost instantly. He stood up straighter, and looked over his shoulder at Ford as if the New Jersey native had just appeared out of thin air and claimed to have the answers to the universe. Slowly he turned around as Ford's attention was more and more drawn to him rather than his own thoughts.

"...Oh dang!", he breathed, brushing back his hair. "I just looked like some kinda weirdy bustin' up in here with that, didn' I? Oh shit! I'm sorry! I didn' mean to go off like that on ya!"

Ford wasn't really sure how to respond other than giving a simple shrug again.

"Um.. It's okay I guess. You..seemed pretty upset."

"Yeah but dang it, you're the room mate! I'm sorry! I'm Fiddleford McGucket!", he said, holding out a hand and giving a friendly smile. "I'm powerful sorry if I scared ya or something... I swear! I don't bite!"

Ford hesitated but then gave a small smile and shook his hand.

"Stanford Pines, and it's okay. It wasn't scary as it was perplexing.", he said. "If you wanted scary you should hear my father."

Fiddleford laughed.

"I'd say that's about the same with any father, I'm sure.", he said.

Suddenly Fid's hand froze and he looked down and turned Ford's hand over to observe the knuckles. Ford immediately felt tense and wanted to pull his hand away, but was afraid of appearing rude.

Fiddleford frowned, Ford could watch his eyes roaming back and forth, counting them in his head.

"4, 5..6?", he asked quietly, letting go of shaking his hand and simply holding it by the fingers instead. "Jiminey Christmas, you've got _six fingers?_ "

Ford quickly slipped his hand away and tucked them away in his pockets.

"Ah.. I was..born with them.", he said, looking away and hoping to find an excuse to get away from this.

"Dang..", Fiddleford breathed in an awe Ford hadn't ever heard before.

Where as most people would've more scared or uneasy about it, this one sounded genuinely amazed. And the shock was evident on the man's face as he looked back at Fiddleford. This earned him a smile of similar awe proceeding what he heard before and Fidds looked back up from the bulging pockets to Ford.

"That's about the niftiest thing I've _ever_ done see!", Fidds complimented. "Ya must be pretty innovative in dexterity with them digits."

The unusual crossing of vocabulary with his Southern drawl, couldn't help but come across strange to Ford. For a moment, he wondered what species Fiddleford really was. But otherwise, he wasn't sure how else to respond to such a positive outlook on his hands.

"...You're not like other people, are you?", he was unable to help ask.

"Aw hell no.", Fiddleford shrugged. "Y'know how you hear that Southern country folk're all about peach dumplin's, sweet tea, and trucks and seem as dumb as mud? That's cause they typically _are._ And it doesn' help being born a engineering prodigy out in Georgia. But my mother would let herself be damned if she was gonna let me get ta feelin' low cause I wasn't like the others. Just cause it's weird, doesn't mean it's _bad._ After all, my dad was born with a second Adam's apple. Don't mean he's dead or worse. Just claims it helps him drink more whiskey."

He laughed and Ford chuckled some in return.

"Wow.. Um.. Thank you, I suppose?", Ford smiled. "You're about the only person I've met who understood."

Fiddleford gave a nod in understanding.

"We've all been there.", he said, before finally noticing the clock Stanford had hung up. "Well shoot, I better get to unpacking. It's only gettin' later. Hey you know if you want that Bojangles, help yourself. I ain't touchin' it again."

"Reminds me. Why were you so mad about them?", Ford asked curiously while Fiddleford went to unzipping his bags and looking around for what he wanted to put up first.

"Well tell me somethin' first where are you from?", Fids asked.

"New Jersey.", Ford replied.

"Wow, _dang!_ Now that IS a rough life!", Fiddleford said, momentarily pausing to give a teasing smirk over his shoulder. "See then, you don't get it. I may be a nerd, but you can't take the hillbilly outta that. Nothin' beats home made biscuits and white gravy the way your mama would make them. Iz been a long car trip out here to Backupsmore and I was feelin' kinda home sick. But damn that shit takes like crap compared to _real_ biscuits and gravy."

"...You're correct to assume one thing, I don't understand.", Ford answered bluntly, chuckling a little. "You lose me with the idea of biscuits in gravy, let alone the fact you specify in saying that gravy, typically being brown, is _'white'_."

"Well when I get done, I'll show you what I mean.", Fiddleford grinned as he worked. "Fortunately I did have a batch from home, but I didn't want to climb into the back seat to pick it out while I was drivin'."

Ford sat back on his bed and watched a little while. Fiddleford McGucket seemed like an unusual hybrid of his own, and yet somehow Ford felt less experienced in comparison. Still, he was a friendly face, though being angry certainly seemed like some sort of second personality compared to now. Ford hoped, at the very least, they would be something like friends.

"Stanford?", Fids interrupted.

"I'm sorry?", Ford blinked, pulling out of his thoughts.

"Was askin' if you had family you missed?", Fiddleford asked with a curious shrug.

"Hm? Oh.. Um.", Ford glanced at the picture on the desk and simply shrugged. "No. Not really. Except my mother and baby brother I suppose. But I'm not exactly homesick."

Fiddleford nodded some before going back to his work.

"Was just curious. You were starin' off. I didn't wanna say something to make you feel too bad, Stanford."

"Thank you. But I'm fine.", Stanford smiled. "And please.. Just call me Ford."

"Well then, Ford.", Fiddleford paused to turn around and face his room mate smiling once again as if there wasn't a thing he'd judge Ford on. "..I get ta feelin' we'll be the best of friends."

Ford couldn't help but smile too, seeing him do so.

"I agree...", he nodded. "The best of friends."


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: This is based on the Ghoul AU that Cirilee on tumblr created. Hope you enjoy it!_

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Stanford and Fiddleford stared at each other across the table. One of dispair, the other stern and firm.

"...I don't wanna do this..", Ford said, ears folded down in dismay.

"...You HAVE to.. I don't want you to starve..", Fids argued yet again, concern blending into his expression.

Ford sighed and stared down at the table.

"I know.. I just.. I wish animal blood was enough..", he sighed, a finger trailing one of his sharp insizers.

"Ford.. I'll be okay.", Fiddleford promised, coming over and hugging him close.

Ford heaved a long sigh. He hated doing this. Fiddleford already looked pale from time to time. But he had no other choice. Animal blood just didn't do it for a ghoul. It wasn't rich enough to sustain him.

Carefully, Ford pulled back the shirt and hovered his mouth over Fidd's exposed shoulder.

"...I'm sorry..", he whispered.

"It's okay.", the other urged, closing his eyes to prepare for the bite. "..drink. ...Please."

After a moment's of hesitation, Ford bite down, his teeth sinking into the soft warm flesh that momentarily flinched from the sharp pain.

Fids winced and held back the urge to whine. It was better to feed him than to let him get hungry, he told himself. After a couple of swallows into it, as Ford settled into the rhythm of drinking, they both relaxed.

"S-see?", Fiddleford tried to sound encouraging. "It's okay.. I'm alright."

He could hear Ford sigh as he drank and he gently kissed his ear to be encouraging.

"It's alright Ford.. You're not hurting me..", he reassured sweetly.

Ford felt horrible. He did feel like a monster. Having to feed on a human, his friend, his lover. Blood seemed so precious. It was a piece of life. It was what sustained life and life itself is so amazing. How could Fiddleford just give it away for him? He felt guilty for having to feed on him like some sort of sick parasite. He knew without human blood he was bound to dry up and die. And if he claimed any victim he'd have "murderer" to add to monster.

Fiddleford knew he felt like this. He always said it. Ford felt weak in his fight against the need to drink blood, and that's why Fids always tried to be patient and reassuring, or even encouraging of it. It hurt, for a while, yet to the engineer it felt like something special. Understanding Ford meant by no means to hurt him or only use him, and that he was always sure not to take too much or expose Fids to becoming infected, the way he treated and cared for him after these feedings made the man feel so special and so loved. He wanted to care for Ford in the same manner and does his best to reassure him in every way that it's okay and he didn't have to be afraid.

"I'm alright.", he repeated in Ford's ear, feeling him slowly loosen up. "It's okay, Ford. Drink as much as you need.. Let me be the strong one this time. I'll look out for you, I always will.."

Ford sighed again, softly this time. He slowed down in drinking, allowing it to satisfy his instincts. His bent-down ears slowly lifted up, more calm.

Fiddleford smiled some, happy to see his lover relax. He kissed Ford's cheek and tried to think of a way to make it more enjoyable for the both of them.

"...I love you.", he said, gently hugging him closer, feeling the other's cheeks grow warm. "I love seeing you relax.. You're so cute when you are.."

Ford returned the hug gently, his breathing was slowing down as he calmed some more. Fiddleford ran a hand through his hair.

"Kgrrrr...", Ford purred, arching his neck to tilt his head into the touch some which made Fiddleford chuckle.

"See, you're not a monster.. You're like a sweet little pet, I get to protect and take care of..", he cooed, still stroking Ford's hair like fur.

He watched Ford's ears slowly bend back against his head, embarrassed by the flattery as they turned a brighter green. Fiddleford grinned and leaned closer to whisper softly.

"And I take very good care of my pets...", he said, earning a shiver and hungrier pull on his shoulder for more blood as Ford whined softly, needily. "Drink as much as you like.. It's okay.. I know you won't hurt me..and you know I won't let you get hurt.. That's what makes this okay... Feed if you need to, it'll be alright... I promise, I'll always love you."

Ford gently pulled up to kiss and gently lick the wound in appreciation and affection before returning to drinking.

Fiddleford cooed and urged and went on, earning soft bites, kisses, and whines until finally Ford pulled away. Blushing green in the face and dazed-looking.

"...Are you done?", Fiddleford asked, earning a small nod.

The two touched foreheads as Ford caught his breath. The ghoul leaned forward and gently kissed Fiddleford.

"Thank you..", he breathed quietly. "I... y..you're so generous...and kind to me.. I don't know what I can do in return..."

Fiddleford smiled lovingly back, his own face turning a few shades more pink.

"...Don't have to do anything for me..", he said. "Just let me know when you need to feed again, okay?"

"I mean, you don't just let me drink, you make me feel like it's okay.. It's.. it's not something horrible or monsterous of me.", Ford said, pouting a little. "..I feel so guilty, like I can't give you enough in return..."

"Stanford...", Fids gently cupped his cheeks and kissed him sweetly, earning a soft purr from the other. "..as long as you're happy and satisfied, then so am I..."

Ford smiled and nodded.

"...I love you.", Ford smiled.

"That's all I'll ever need.", Fids returned.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Angsty prompt on this one. Hope you like it, please review! ^^_

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"I love you Fiddleford.", Stanford reminded him as he nuzzled the side of the engineer's face.

They shared sweet kisses. Hands intertwined, fingers laced so beautifully, it made Fiddleford feel all so special to have his hands held in those six fingers.

"I'll always love you..", Ford promised, curling up close to his body in the cold dark nights. "I'll never let you go.."

Fids felt like his heart would fly and sing. It thumped so full of love and passion for him. A kind of love he never had before. He felt so secure and yet held so high.

"Fiddleford, there's no one more important in my life than you.", those sweet words. "You're really funny."

"You're sweet."

"Damn you're so smart!"

"You know me so well.."

"There's no one in my life like you..."

"I'm so glad you're here."

"You make everything better."

"Y'know I just LOVE it when you talk like that?"

"Fiddleford please don't leave me... Just for tonight?"

"I love the way we work together. Ever notice that? It's like we were made for each other.."

"There's no one else for me."

"I love you, Fiddleford."

"... _L-lair_...", Fiddleford choked out.

He wiped away at his eyes again, and shuddered another sob.

His heart was twisting with pain. He shook from head to toe and he felt internally cold.

"Ya l-li-liar!", he spat out.

He tried to calm down. But his hands kept shaking as he made the adjustments.

 _'You never loved me!_ ', he thought as he continued to work. _'Lies! IT WAS ALL A LIE!'_

Finally, it was well tuned again. He sniffled and wiped away more tears and pushed the messy hair out of his face.

Suddenly there was a bang on his door and he twisted around and scowled.

"FIDDLEFORD _PLEASE!_ ", Ford's voice begged.

"Y'er not gonna lie to me anymore...", Fiddleford muttered darkly, pulling the device off the table.

The doorknob twisted and Ford managed to get in, using his own spare key. Fiddleford could hear him running through his small house as he twisted the knob and input the letters.

"Fidds! Listen you don't have to do this!", Ford called out.

He came into the room and suddenly halted in the doorway with a gasp. His eyes were wide, Fids were narrowed.

"...Fiddleford...", he breathed in fear. "...Wh.. What's.. L-look I know-"

"NO.", Fiddleford interrupted with a voice louder than he intended. "Y-Ya've got NO idea!"

"I'm sorry!", Ford apologized. "Please! Just-! Let's not do anything rash!"

"Oh-ho! NO...", Fiddleford shook his head. "Naw. Uh-uh! This is 'bout the most sane thing I've EVER done!"

"Fiddleford please!", Ford begged. "I-! I love you!"

" _AW HELL NO YOU DON'T!_ ", Fids roared. "IF YOU LOVED ME YOU WOULDN'T-! H-HOW COULD YOU PO-POSSIBLY THINK-?! _YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'VE BEEN THROUGH FOR YOU!_ "

He sobbed again and somewhere in his blurry vision he thought he saw Ford spill tears as well.

"Wh-who do you think you are?!", he stormed. "Do-! Ya don't even kn-know what you're askin' of me!"

"I'm sorry!", Ford begged. "It was wrong of me! I didn't think-"

"NO! YOU DIDN'T THINK OF ME! YOU ONLY THOUGHT OF YOURSELF!", Fiddleford screamed again. "YOU SELFISH HOG! YOU'RE SO OBSESSED WITH YOUR WORK! _YOU'RE TRYIN' TA DRAG ME DOWN THERE AGAIN, KICKIN' AND SCREAMIN' TA BOOT JUST TO JOG MY MEMORY! **I DON'T WANNA REMEMBER WHAT I SAW!**_ "

"Fiddleford, I wasn't meaning to hurt you!", Ford winced.

"Well you're never gonna hurt me again..", Fiddleford's voice trembled and ached from screaming so much. "I'll make sure of that."

He raised his gun to the temple of his head.

"Fiddleford please don't!", Ford came in quickly but he wasn't fast enough.

He pulled the trigger and there was a small flash.

Fiddleford slowly blinked his eyes open. He saw the floor. He looked up at the man in his room and felt confused.

"...Can.. Uh.. Can I help you, sir?", he asked with a pleasant smile and then looked around the room he stood in. "And.. by chance can you tell me where I am?"

Ford almost heard his heart rip.

"Fiddleford..", he breathed, almost inaudibly.

"...Can I help you?", Fiddleford repeated.

"...No..", Ford sighed. "...and I'm sorry I ever asked you to."

Fiddleford tilted his head to the side, curious and puzzled as ever. Ford sighed again and then turned to leave.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you in your home.. _Sir.._ ", he said, hiding the tears on his face. "...You won't be bothered any longer."

He walked out and Fiddleford watched, absolutely bewildered. He then looked down at the memory gun in his hand. That he remembered, and what it did. His eyes widened some as two and two pieced in his mind and he looked back up in shock when he heard the front door close.

"...oh gosh did I just forget him?", Fids asked, placing a hand over his mouth.

He wanted to go out and apologize, just to be polite, but hesitated. If he purposefully forgot that man, whoever he was, there was a reason.

Fiddleford then realized his body ached, like he had been crying. Runny nose and tear-stained cheeks. He worried and looked down at the gun in his hand as only one question was left in his mind.

 _'...Did I make a mistake?'_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Something quick and fluffy. ^^_

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Ford was slumped over his desk, papers an organized mess, pen in his mouth like a cigarette, the laptop beeping quietly in front of him.

His shoulders and the sheer sturdiness of his skeletal structure was the only thing keeping his head aloft with his hands under it, propped up like some kind of puppet. Every muscle, too tired to keep him held up straight.

The numbers and figures on the papers popped out and swam in his vision as he felt the sharp pain of his eyes crossing.

Suddenly his nerves shot up, almost painfully, as a hand touched his shoulder-blade gently, and slowly moved to wrap around his middle, followed by its pair quickly.

Ford recognized the wiry arms and the thin body that pressed into his back and the nose that nuzzled his hair. He smiled a little and gave a small "mm" in either greeting or pleasure. He was too tired to tell which at the time.

"It's late..", Fiddleford said quietly. "You should get some sleep.."

"Hm.. In a little bit..", Ford whined like a kid, rubbing his eyes. "Just...jusa few more... A few late nights aren't gonna hurt me."

"It's _late,_ Stanford.", Fiddleford insisted gently, giving a slight tug on Ford's middle. "Come on. It's time for bed."

He kissed Ford's cheek which made it almost impossible to refuse. Ford sighed, leaning his head back into the body. He nuzzled his nose against the soft fabric and gently kissed Fid's pudgy stomach.

Fiddleford flushed deep red at the small gesture. He cleared his throat a little, trying not to let Ford get the better of him.

"..F-ford y..ya need to get to sleep.", he repeated, earning a small chuckle.

"Just another half hour?", he asked.

"You're misspelling horribly on the laptop and you're gonna have to clean that up tomorrow...", Fidds reminded him. "Get to bed."

Ford sighed and rolled his chair around as Fids stepped out of the way. He picked himself up, but still felt like a hopeless meat puppet as his knees buckled and shoulders and head slumped.

Fiddleford shook his head and rolled his eyes. He knew Ford was a bit theatrical when he wanted to be and a baby about things he didn't want or couldn't have. Still, he couldn't help and smile about it in spite of himself. However, he was set in his mind not to let his partner do this to himself.

Ford couldn't ever get drunk. It wasn't possible and he proved it several times to Fiddleford, once having to actually tape it to prove he wasn't using some sort of spell. But when he was tired, he did act drunk. Goofy, laughing hysterically at stupid jokes, theatrical, ranting, raging when he got on a bad rant, swearing, slurred speech, blurry vision, unable to walk or drive straight. The hangovers were still bad too, but at least Ford didn't have to puke all the alchohol out like Fidds did.

He gently took Ford's arm and wrapped it around him to help lead him to the elevator. His boyfriend stumbled and swayed with the steps, a betrayal to his mumbles about being able staying up a few more hours.

With a little effort, he got Ford in the elevator and back up to the house and into bed. Ford sat there and lazily kicked off his shoes.

"There, now if you're quite finished-", Fiddleford started to head off, thinking it was easy enough for the drunkest person to fall asleep, when he suddenly felt a hand snatch his and pull him with a heavy weight that caused Fidds to fall over backwards onto the bed. "Ah! Wh-?! _Ford!_ "

Ford cuddled up close to Fiddleford and clung to him tightly.

"Mm.", he hummed, rubbing his face into the crook of Fiddleford's shoulder. "Ifahm sleepin' you're too."

"S-S-Stanford I was- I w-was gonna sleep on the couch.", Fiddleford blushed bright red and tried to squirm away.

"No. I want you to be HERE.", he whined, pulling a bit closer and moving his head to rest on his chest, effectively pinning him. "Stay... _please?_ "

Fiddleford sighed, looking down at him. He did love the sight of Ford clinging his middle, that bushy mess of dark brown hair and larger body somehow looking so much smaller when tucked up closer to him. He felt warm and secure in Ford's grasp and he smiled softly when he acknowledged it.

He took off Ford's glasses, and his own, and sat them on the end table. There was no way he could move out of the grasp anyway, even if he wanted to.

"Alright..", he said, and placed a kiss on Ford's head before settling in comfortably where they were face to face. "I'll stay."

Ford snuggled closer to Fidds and lazily kissed his nose. Fiddleford wrapped his free arm around Ford and reached down to kiss him gently on the lips.

"Thank you..", Ford said quietly, sleep already taking over his body.

"Of course..", Fiddleford smiled.

Fidds stayed awake long enough to watch Ford fall deep asleep. He looked so peaceful and relax, as opposed to the typical stern, busy, heavily overloaded, complicated mindset he always had. It was beautiful in the dark room's low moon light.

"I'll always stay with you..", he promised before falling away to peaceful slumber.


End file.
